For the Wolf, Daphne thought.
It made her remember him bare-chested on the wrestling mat once more and her cheeks warmed. What a sight must she be, red from the cold and her embarrassment.
“Far more appropriate, I suppose,” Daphne agreed, chuckling.
She had not laughed like this in a long time, and she felt lighter for it. Even the Duke looked younger and happier, with his face relaxed and flushed red from the cold and their momentous efforts. Despite his reminder to her that he was also the Wolf to be afraid of, he was very human at that given moment.
Suddenly, she had the urge to tease him. She bent and scooped up some snow and tossed a snowball at him. It hit him on the shoulder.
“That’s only a warning shot, Your Grace,” she teased.
He looked at the melting snow on the black coat, which joined all the rest of the snowballs on wetting him today. Then, his stunned face transformed into the Wolf’s, with that big grin and slightly pointed canines. She laughed to see the way his eyes glinted merrily. He was enjoying himself really and truly.
“That’s quite a bold move, my duchess,” he murmured, “but you know it is also a foolish move.”
Before she could fully understand what was going on, a snowball fight ensued. Adrian was faster, and stronger, but also more accurate, proving that he had let the children win earlier. However, Daphne was agile and could be ruthless when it came to competition. She was considered the meeker twin, but that did not mean she conceded all the time.
Oh, no.
As they were throwing snowballs at each other, Daphne noticed that the Duke was getting closer and closer. Her heart pounded even harder. What was he trying to do? She rushed away from the children and darted toward the nearest building. She was not sure which shop was housed within, but she sought shelter under one of the eaves. Before she could do much more thanpress her back to the wall and pray that the Duke failed to track her through the snow, she saw that he was right behind her.
“How did you do that?” She laughed as he lifted a snowball height and made a show of balancing it in one hand.
“Did you think you could run away from me?” he said as he playfully flipped the snowball in the air and caught it once more without ever needing to look directly at it.
She cringed and closed her eyes. “Do not throw it!” she begged. “You are too close. The cold will sting.”
Because she kept her eyes sealed tightly, awaiting the cold wet snowball to land on her cheek at any moment, she did not see what the Duke did. But then, as one second passed into the next, she gained the courage to open her eyes and peer up at him.
Just as her eyelashes fluttered, the Duke cornered her against a wall, his arms bracing on either side of her head.
Those amber eyes were on her, trying to seek more from her even as she tried to read him. He was still panting from the fight, but it was clear there was triumph in those eyes. Something else simmered there. Something more intimate.
“Surrender, Duchess,” he commanded, and she knew he was not only talking about the snowball fight.
At some point, he had dropped his snowball, and so Daphne was unimpressed by his bravado.
“Never,” she breathed.
His smile broadened.
“Let us agree to a temporary truce, then. It is hard to defeat you.”
She knew he didn’t want to win, either. If he had, he would have clobbered her with the snowball rather than let it drop at their feet. He stepped back. While it was loud in the village, the two seemed to be caught in their own silence.
“Come home with me,” the Duke urged as he offered Daphne his hand.
She accepted him. “We may discuss this truce further there.”
“Indeed.”
The joy of the afternoon blended into the comfort of the evening. After the chilly joy of snowball fights, they went home by carriage. Their staff watched them with undisguised awe and happiness. Their Duke and Duchess had finally had a full day simply having fun.
In the drawing room, they then enjoyed the fire coming from the hearth. Warm and cozy, they sat beside each other on the couch,inhaling the scent of pine needles while drinking hot chocolate from their mugs.
Adrian stared contemplatively into the flames. His shield seemed to be down, and Daphne had to admit, hers was, too. She could not help but still think of his sister, the strikingly beautiful but long-dead girl in the portrait. Could she ask about her?
The man beside her was fully human the whole day, shedding his title to have fun with the villagers. It was satisfying to see everyone waving them goodbye at the end, with no fear in their eyes.
